


Basic Access

by lilmissmaya



Series: Fuss and Bother [1]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-16 16:38:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18695293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilmissmaya/pseuds/lilmissmaya
Summary: Snufkin comes down with a cold.... and it only gets worse. can he get back to moominvalley in time?





	1. just a winter chill

It started with a cough, of course. A mild cold after getting drenched and chilled, nothing exciting. He’d always been healthy, colds passed quickly, he’d be better in no time.

But he couldn’t quite shake it. Even after his clothes and bedding finally dried (He’d gotten caught in some terrible storms, leaving him cold and wet for days) in the warmer southern air, the chill was still inside his chest. A small, nagging thing that wouldn’t leave. Hot tea would sometimes help a bit, and he drank it by the gallon. Drive out the cold, loosen up his lungs. Not like he had money for a doctor… not like he had money at all. He’d be fine. He continued on his way, sleeping rough as he did, here and there.

Half way through winter, he started to realize that maybe he wasn’t fine. The cough hadn’t gone away, only worse. It rattled in his chest when he tried to run, left him breathless. Woke him up at all hours when he tried to sleep. The effort of the constant coughing hurt his chest. Certainly sleeping on the ground wasn’t helping.

Moominpapa’s sauna would do the trick, he thought miserably to himself, wrapped up tight in his bed roll by a fire. It’d help him sweat out this fever, maybe he’d be warm for the first time in weeks. He was so cold, down to the bone. Despite the wool blanket and coat, despite being as close to the fire as he could without scorching, his teeth chattered. Maybe if he got warm, he could rest without coughing himself awake, and if he could rest…   
He could go back to Moomin valley. There’d be tea and soup there, the sauna, Moomintroll to make sure he stayed in bed- but it was winter, they’d still be hibernating. And the snow to slog through to get there. Climbing up into the mountains with a fever was a terrible idea.   
The world slid sideways as he tried to stand up, he found himself face down on the ground. This was bad. Fever or not, he should head home (home?) to somewhere safe to recover. And soon, while he still had some strength.   
He loved the forest, but he didn’t want to die here. 

He walked in a feverish dream, half asleep and half awake. Ate little, drank as much as he could because the thirst wouldn’t go away. He caught a glimpse of himself in a frozen pool, he looked bad. Face pale, deep purple under his eyes, hair tangled and dirty.   
He had to be close to Moomin valley, the weather was getting worse and the snow deeper. Another day or so, and he could be in the Moomin house…  
It took everything he had to get up to his feet and pick up his bag. More to get one foot in front of the other. 

The world shrunk to a point. He couldn’t feel his feet, he long stopped being able to feel his hands. His lungs hurt, breathing in the cold air was a struggle. It took too much energy just to breathe. 

 

One step.

 

Another. 

 

He stumbled on a root, fell to his knees. Somehow got up. 

 

One step.

 

Another. 

 

It got darker, the wind slicing through his coat. Exhaustion was setting in, but if he stopped, he wasn’t sure he could get started again. Laying down in the snow would be death. Stopping would be death. If he could just get to the Moomin house, he could get a fire going in the kitchen, get warmed up-

He stumbled again, his numb feet caught up in something and he fell hard. 

Get up, get up, get up-

But his body wasn’t listening to him anymore, having been pushed past its limits for days. He was past shivering, past even feeling the cold anymore. Maybe, if he rested just for a few minutes here, gather his strength-

And in a few minutes he was past thinking much of anything at all. 

\----

 

Something woke Moomin up from his hibernation. This happened from time to time and he hated it. Hated being alone while everyone else slept. The cold, the snow. Better to sleep through it all until spring came. 

But something woke him up all the same. A change in the wind, a noise where there should have been none? There was a foot and plus snow on the windowsill when he pushed it open. Dawn was trying to peek over the horizon, turning the edge of the sky purple. It was still and quiet, one of those moments where the world seemed to be holding its breath. 

Moomin just wished there was someone to share it with him. Well, he’d find a book, see if he could read away the insomnia-

His ears twitched. Music? Snufkin’s music? It was gone, then- there it was again! A bit here, a bit there- but it was too early for him to come back!  
Excitement came over him, overriding any good sense he might have had. 

Snufkin was back!

He tumbled over his own feet as he ran down the stairs and out the front door. The snow was up past his knees but that didn’t mean much, as short as his legs were. It had stopped snowing at least, the clouds starting to move out. The dawn was turning the snow a lurid pink-blue. There was something dark in the snow, almost near the bridge. Moomin almost missed it, except that it looked like a pile of clothes, like-

The joy turned to panic and he ran faster. It looked like Snufkin’s coat and hat and he wasn’t moving. The snow had built up over the still form, Moomin brushed it off before turning him over. He was pale and cold, and for a moment- Snufkin coughed and moaned, like the movement hurt him. But he was alive!

Moomintrolls were not known for their athleticism. They were made for softer activities, like digging for shells, not carrying young men for a mile or so home through snow. If there was such a record for Moomintrolls to do so, Moomin would have gotten first place. He took speed instead of care, groke knows how long Snufkin had been out there, laying in the snow. Mama would know what to do. 

His loud panic managed to wake up the rest of the household. Well, the slamming doors did most of it, then the broken crockery that came down as he tried to get the big stock pot down to heat up water. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been so dire. 

Moominmama sent him to get blankets, put papa to work getting the wet clothes off the boy. Little My sat on the counter, quiet for once while mama built up the fire. Getting him warm was the first order of business, with dry blankets and flannel-wrapped hot water bottles. Moomin tried not to cry, watching as he went from limp to shivering as he warmed up. 

“Where?” he mumbled, eyes opening, unfocused. Papa held him up at mama’s instructions, cradling him against his flannel pajamas.

“Snufkin, sweety, I need you to drink this.” she ordered, holding his jaw. It was one of her special teas, good for things like fevers and colds, although he needed it’s warmth as much as anything. With someone who’d been out in the cold and frozen like this, you had to warm them from the inside as much as the outside. He tried to swallow, a good bit dribbled out from the corners of his mouth, but most made its way inside. “That’s a good boy, Snufkin.”

“Mama?” he muttered, half-focused on her finally. It was barely a word, tumbling out as his eyes drooped shut again. His face was still pale, but his lips were not blue anymore. 

“I do not like the sound of his breathing. Moomin, help your papa take him to bed. You can keep him warm there while I make up a poultice.”

\---

Waking up was murky. Maybe he didn’t wake up, maybe he was dreaming it. Bits and pieces, drinking something warm, laying on something soft. Voices talking like he was underwater. All his bones hurt and he was glad for the soft thing he was on. Someone stroked his hair, put a warm hand on his face. It should be time for him to get up and move on- but every time he came close to the surface of waking up, he’d go deep back down, back to sleep where nothing hurt and everything was warm. 

No, when he truly woke up it was like being pulled out of water. He was cold, drenched with sweat and weak- but awake. It took a moment to remember where he was- no, he recognized the room more than remembered how he got there. 

“Moomin?” it came out hoarse and he ended coughing until tears came to his eyes. There was a clattering and thumping from the stairs before Moomin rushed in with a mug of something in his paws. 

“Snufkin! You’re awake!” the mug went on the nightstand as the Moomintroll’s paws felt his face. “And your fever’s gone!”

“How long have I been here?” he tried to sit up, but his body felt like he’d fallen off a mountain. Twice. Not that he’d fallen off a mountain twice to know that was exactly how it felt like, but he could imagine it was pretty close to how he felt now. He tried not to feel embarrassed that Moomin had to help him up, being sick happened to everyone from time to time.

“About a week. Here, drink this. Momma made a whole big pot of soup for you.”

“Soup, yes.” he wasn’t hungry, just tired, but if he didn’t then there would be more fussing. Moomin politely ignored how much Snufkin’s hands shook as he took the mug. 

It was good as always. 

Even more embarrassment, he needed Moomin’s help getting to the water closet. His legs were like water, refusing to support him as he stood up. At least he could wash his own face and change into a dry pair of pajamas. 

He must have fallen asleep after that, he woke up with Little My staring at him from the foot of the bed. 

“Look at you, you’re a mess.” she said accusingly. Moominmama had very quietly threatened to hang her from the rafters like a dried ham if she bothered Snufkin. Peh. “you’re lucky you’re not dead.”

“Were you worried about me, Little My?”

“Of course not.” she plopped next to him. She had slept under Moomin’s bed the entire time he’d been delirious, but she wouldn’t tell him that. He smiled like he knew before coughing into his pillow. It took a minute or two before he got his breath back. 

“Well, I guess you can stay here for the rest of the winter. Keep Moomin from moping around weeks on end waiting for you if you’re already here.”

“That is the bright side. Where is he?” at least he could sit up on the side of the bed by himself with a minimum of dizziness. 

“Mama made him go outside to gather herbs. He needed fresh air. I promised to make sure you didn’t do something stupid like run off- wait what are you doing?”

“Finding my clothes.”

“What? Get back in bed.” he was weak enough she easily pulled him down. “You sound awful and you’re the color of bad milk.”

“I just need to…” he had wanted to come back here, why did he already want to leave? That trapped feeling again. 

“Back. in. bed.” somehow she manhandled him until she had him pinned under the blankets. It didn’t help that the bed was very comfortable, very nice to be laying in. 

Little My sighed as he went back to sleep, stubborn ass. Nonetheless she tucked the blanket around him before settling in the curve of his back. He wouldn’t be sneaking out on her watch.


	2. Snowbound

He was still sleeping when Moomin crept back in. momma said it was a good thing for him to sleep so much, it would help him heal. But it was taking ages-  
But it was kind of nice, having him so close. (if only Little My would bugger off and leave them alone, together.) Snufkin’s hair was still messy, Moomin smoothed it out of his face, then gave it another stroke for good luck. Yes, nice to be like this, where he could be so close, in a way that made his tummy feel strange. Possibly in a way a narrator writing this would say, be possibly stronger than friend feelings, but he was too young to know what this was about.   
He liked how soft his friend’s face looked when he was sleeping, just so relaxed. And he could see the changes in his face, a bit of lost weight made his face sharper than before. More… grown-up. 

He touched his snout to Snufkin’s forehead, taking his temperature. Still warm, damp with sweat. Still smelled of illness. He took the opportunity to cup his friend’s cheek, with that weird feeling in his belly again. 

Snufkin smiled, opening his eyes just a little. “Moomin.”

“You were pretending to sleep!” he tried to sound mad, more embarrassed that he was caught pawing his friend’s face.

“Sort of. In and out.” but he didn’t move away, eyes already drooping shut again. 

“Hey.” Moomin said quietly, “why did you come here?”

“I thought…. I was sick and wanted to come home.” he coughed and rubbed his eyes. “The room’s spinning again.”

Home.

“Your fever is back. Momma will have something for it.” he turned to leave, thought a moment, and turned back to press a kiss to snufkin’s temple. “I’m glad you’re here.”

\----

The fever was down by morning (but not gone. A glance in the mirror showed a red flush across his face and a paleness under his tan), and Snufkin insisted on getting dressed and going downstairs. Seeing the same 4 walls- even if he slept most of the time, was making him anxious. He needed to be outside, or barring that, at least a different room. 

He just hadn’t expected going down the three flights of stairs to be so hard. One step at a time with a death grip on the railing, finally arriving sweating and wheezing on the first floor. Going back up stairs… well, he wouldn’t think about it right now. And hopefully no one had seen him wobble down… he needed to preserve what little dignity he had left. 

“Snufkin!” moominmama peered out of the kitchen door. “What are you doing up?”

“Change of scenery.” he tried to smile. 

“Come in here, the kitchen is warmer. I’m not having that pneumonia getting worse.”

He found himself wrapped up in several blankets, to the point he could not move his arms to get to the tea she had put in front of him. It wasn’t the same as being out and about, but at least it was a different set of walls. Was it bad he wasn’t completely stir-crazy yet? The last time he spent this long indoors he had ended up tunneling his way out of jail with a can opener. Another coughing fit broke him out of his doze. At least this time something felt like it loosened up, he could breathe a little easier after. Moominmama came over his shoulder, adding a large dollop of honey to his tea without saying a word, before turning back to her cooking. And it was rather… pleasant. To sit at a kitchen table with hot tea and watching the snow through a window. Not as pleasant as a southern wheat field and watching the birds, but still. 

“Are you hungry dear?” she said a while later. “There’s bread and porridge.” 

“Yes, please.” he had no appetite, but he knew he’d not eaten much since before he got here. Cups of soup, yes, endless mugs of tea. He could make an attempt at something solid. His pants were already getting loose enough. Even Moomin had noticed. When they had curled up together to sleep, Moomin’s paw had run down his hip, to the pointed angle of bone before pulling back quickly. He’d always been a bit lanky, lean. His lifestyle was such he carried little spare flesh on himself, and what he’d had been burned away by fever. If he was going to get better, be out of here before spring- but would it really be so bad to stay here the rest of the winter? He was going to come back here in a few months anyway-

It was all coming back to being… home. Somehow, even half-dead, he’d wanted to come back here.

Momma’s porridge was topped with dried fruit, honey and big knobs of butter, the same with the slices of bread. It was too much food, but he worked on it as best as he could. She settled wordlessly in the chair next to him, knitting at hand. He was grateful for her silence. 

But it stretched out, feeling strange to the point he had to fill the silence. 

“Thank you for letting me stay here. I can-”

“It was no problem.” she said, focused on the pattern of stitches on her needles. “And you’ll stay for the rest of the season. We just couldn’t possibly hibernate in peace thinking you could be out there in the snow.” guilt and an excuse all in one. Strangely, he felt relieved. She took his arm and measured the knitting against it, nodding before starting again. “Moomin was so worried when he found you, I thought he was going to lose all his fur.”

“I guess we couldn’t have that.” he smiled into his mug. Eating had made him tired again, but he couldn’t face the stairs nor the small room yet. Wait, Moomin had found him?

“He said he heard your harmonica.” she glanced up, her long face serious. “Just in time too. Another hour, another half hour and I would not have been able to bring you around. It was a very near thing, Snufkin. If Moomin had not found you, no one would have found your body until spring.”

She was right. He’d tried to avoid thinking about it, but she was right. He dropped his hands into his lap to hide how bad they shook. He always told himself he wasn’t afraid of dying, taking chances for the sake of adventure. 

“I-” and the tiredness, the nearness of dying alone in the snow and not for some glorious thrill washed over him, bringing tears to his eyes. Without his permission they spilled over, down his face and into the tea. 

“Oh sweety.” dropping the knitting, she pulled him close to her. “Oh Snufkin. We love you so much-”

\-----

“Mamma!” moomin tumbled down the stairs, fur flying in a panic. “Snufkin’s not in bed an-!”

“Shhh.” snufkin had fallen asleep on her shoulder. “Help me take him to the couch.” 

He fussed over his sleeping friend, tucking the blankets firmly around him. He’d always been a light sleeper, so this… oh it worried him so much that his friend could be moved to a different room without waking up. 

“He’s going to be okay, right?” he looked up to his mama, hands twisting the tuft of his tail.   
“Of course.” she said, even though she had her own private worries. Recovering from a near-freezing was one thing… but the fever and cough that was hanging on was another. “Now, it’s time for your lunch, then you can help me wind yarn for Snufkin’s sweater.”

He wasn’t as well as he tried to put on, but he wasn’t one for sleeping all day, day in and out. And he was doing his best not to be irritable, being trapped by illness and weather inside the house. Momma nearly had an entire sweater done for him (just the collar left to go), Moomin, papa, Little My and him played endless rounds of cards and listened to radio. (Little My insisted she was going to stay up for the winter anyway. Loudly and often.)

Worst yet about the whole thing was he hadn’t the energy to do anything outside, even if it hadn’t been pouring down ice and snow. Weather fit for only the groke, mama would say before turning back to her knitting. Maybe that’s why they usually hibernate all winter. Easier to avoid the inevitable stir-craziness if you slept the season away. 

And he felt guilty for being restless, guilty for not wanting to be around them as much as he did want to be with them. Like he was being ungrateful for turning their lives upside down and the fact they had to take care of him. He’d taken care of himself for… well as long as he could remember. It was embarrassing.

Like finding himself on the floor of the kitchen with everyone staring over him. One minute he was getting up to get coffee- momma ordered him back to bed. He went with it with a minimum of fuss, too dizzy to make a good denial. 

Moomin snuggled in with him, soft and warm. It was a tight fit in the narrow bed, but he’d slept over enough that he was used to it. Again, moomin’s paw rested on his waist, move down his hip, jerked back when it his his bony bits. There was a flash of irritation that went away quickly, no energy to sustain it. Instead, he grabbed the paw and held it against his stomach, so he was tucked under the troll. There. Better. 

But, he wasn’t… getting better, was he? It had been weeks already, and while the cough was getting better, the fevers still came and went. Still slept all the time, could barely go down the stairs without dizziness. All this fuss and he wasn’t getting better. 

It was like being thrown into cold water. Had he just exchanged a quick and relatively painless death for something slowly sapping the life out of him? Moomin had almost found him dead, would he be watching him die all over again? He curled in on himself, holding tightly onto moomin’s paw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks guys for all the love! I have more to come!


	3. these black moments

Something was wrong with Snufkin, Moomin thought. Not just the cold. The last few days he’d spent more and more time by himself which was fair enough. This was probably the most time he’d spent with the same people in the same place for ages. But today he stayed in bed, making excuses to stay in their (Moomin had began to think of it as “their” room) room all day. Didn’t want to play card games, didn’t want to come down for supper. Which was so strange, because Snufkin wasn’t one to turn down a meal. Even if he just pushed it around with his fork the entire time, he’d still come for politeness sake. He just turned away, mumbled something about a stomach ache and pulled the blanket over his head. 

It was time for dinner and moomin hovered by the doorway, twisting his tail-tuft in his paws. 

“Snufkin?” there was no answer, he shuffled closer. “Snufkin?” he tried again, reaching down to stroke his hair. His friend jerked up in surprise, eyes bright with tears. There was even a wet spot on the pillow.

Snufkin… crying? He never cried! 

Moomin’s instinct was to hug and hug he did, squeezing until his friend’s bones creaked with the pressure. He was tight, taunt at first, then melted into it. 

“What’s wrong? Is your tummy still hurting? Your head?”

“No…” he said softly, pulling away to sit back on the bed. “Not my stomach or my head. I’m just being silly.” he rubbed his face and tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

Now, moomin might not have been the cleverest of creatures. Even he was aware he was not as well traveled or educated as some, but he knew when he was being fibbed to. Something was wrong, serious enough that his cool, calm friend was sad enough to stay in bed all day.

He drew himself up, crossing his arms like momma would have done, while snufkin just slumped down. 

“Moomin, I-”

“There you two are!” the door slammed open as Little My kicked it in. “dinner’s getting cold-” 

Moomin picked her up and threw her out, locking the door behind her.

“Did you just-” snufkin’s eyes were wide. “She’s going to murder you.”

“I…” it had happened on impulse. “I’ll worry about that later. You… momma says it’s no good to hold in worries. If.. you can’t talk to me about it, if its a grown up thing… you can always talk to one of them.”

I took a long moment, snufkin staring at his hands, the floor, anywhere but moomin.

“What if I don’t get better?”

“What do you mean?” he settled down next to him, the bed making an ominous creak. 

His fingers twisted together, long and narrow fingers woven together, the knuckles white with tension. 

“If… I die. if I just keep being sicker and sicker… and…” leave you waiting for me forever, moomin, he wanted to say. 

“MOOMIN!” she pounded on the door hard enough to start bending the frame. “I’M GOING TO TELL MAMA YOU TWO ARE DOING SOMETHING NAUGHTY IN THERE!!”

“GO AWAY LITTLE MY, THIS IS PRIVATE GROWN-UP BUSINESS!”

“FINE!” the stomping trailed down the the stairs.

“Sufkin, you’re not going to...” he trailed off, the words sinking in. it’s hard for young ones to face their own mortality. When you’re a certain age, you’ll never die. You’ll make it through all sorts of danger and laugh it off. To have that realization hit you that you could actually /die/ and never see your friends again… or to leave your friend waiting forever, not knowing what happened to you… as Snufkin very nearly had. There had been a bad moment, one he didn’t like to think about, when he was sure his friend was gone. That was the danger of being an adventurer, the risk of death. It only became real in those panicked moments with his cold white skin and blue lips. And then the week after, the long moments listening to him struggle to breathe and silently urging him to take another breath and another. He didn’t like to think about that either, so he moved onto this current problem.

Moomin went quiet, thinking deep moomin thoughts as he considered what to do now. Of course he wouldn’t leave snufkin all to himself. And of course snufkin would get better, this was just a rough spot. As much as his friend said he wanted his solitude, he had a feeling that’s not always what he wanted, nor what he wanted now. 

“Well…” he said slowly. “If you can’t leave, and you have to stay here, then I’ll have to build us a house.”

“What?” snufkin’s head jerked up in surprise. 

“Well, if you can’t go off on adventures, then we’ll need our own space, of course. Or I could live in the house and you live in a tent in the yard, but I’d rather think the house would be more cozy.”

“Oh moomintroll.” he slumped against a plush shoulder, “a house? Living in one spot all the time?”

“See, you’re already feeling better.” he pressed a kiss to the top of the unruly hair. “You silly goose. Now let’s go get supper before Little My eats it all.”

“I think I’ll stay here a little longer.”

“If I bring you food, will you actually eat it?” snufkin looked guilty. Moomin had noticed his lack of appetite. 

“I’ll try. I really will try.”

Moomin had a lot of time to think at night. He didn’t sleep well when Snufkin’s fevers rose. The first few nights were spent awake, urging his friend to breathe, checking that his heart was still going. Now it was soothing the fever dreams he had, making him moan and shake. A hug, a pat on the face brought him out of it easy enough, but still it couldn’t be good for him. Momma had tried everything in her medicine cabinet. 

Perhaps, what they need was-

The weather was getting warmer, the days longer by inches. So moomin went to visit the Hemulen. (Amazingly, the narrator's spellcheck had Hemulen in it, allowing her to type it correctly. But you are not here for such asides.) He had a great deal of plants and even more books about plants! (He paid the children last summer with jam rolls to find new plants for him. A great sticky mess was had by all.) so if there was anyone who would know what sort of herb could be made into a stronger medicine, it would be him. 

The Hemulen wasn’t much pleased by being woken so early in the season, but moomin knew how to flatter him, he was the /only/ one that could help him, he knew /so/ much about plants…

Coffee was put on the stove and books taken down.

“Now, most conditions are based on being wet or dry, hot or cold. The herbs you need to treat the conditions are also based on that idea and, ideally, counteract the condition to bring the body back to balance. So, while one might think it is a hot condition to have a fever, that’s the body’s attempt to bring more heat. We need a hot and dry herb for your friend.”

There was more hemming and hawing, coffee was drank. More books taken down, dried and pressed herbs were examined. 

“This won’t do, no one would have it. No, not this either… here we go!” Moomin peered at the time-stained page under the Hemulen’s finger. 

“Peculiar stonecrop?” it was an odd looking plant, looking a little like a pine bough. 

“Yes, yes. Often used for relapsing fevers and chest ailments. It’s a succulent evergreen, it grows all year round, so it could be gathered now.”

“Oh yes! Momma could use that one for him! Where can we find it?”

“Well…” he rubbed his long nose and took another slurp of coffee. “It likes stony high places, where its very hot and bright in the summer, very cold in the winter.”

“Oh, hm.” moomin thought long and hard. “Tall-night peak?” 

“Well, that would certainly fit the bill, but-”

“Thank you hemulen!” he rushed out before he could finish, already planning on how to get there. 

Later that day, Snufkin made his way into the kitchen, rubbing his face. “Momma? Where’s moomin?”

“He went out. Here, have some lunch dear.”

“Out?” he sat at the table. “To see Too-ticky or?” he had mentioned the sauna earlier.

“Oh no, he said he was going to Tall Night peak. Find an herb of some sort. He really was in quite the rush and I didn’t-” she blinked at snufkin’s suddenly empty chair. 

“Where are my boots? My hat!” he found one boot half-under the couch, the other behind it. His bag was in the pantry doorway, put away neatly and forgotten about.

“Are you going out after him?” she sounded concerned, stopping short of telling him he couldn’t go out. In her experience, telling the men folk they couldn’t do something merely encouraged them to do it faster and in a worse way.

“He can’t go out to Tall night peak by himself!” he was trying to get the boots on as fast as he could. His fingers were clumsy but he somehow got the laces knotted and his coat over his head. 

“He’s been up in those parts before, he knows the way. Why last summer-”

“Yes but the spiders don’t hibernate in the winter up there!” she was already packing up some food for him, knowing that there would be no way to discourage him while moomin was out there, in potential peril. But what was the matter with a few little spiders?

Problem was, as snufkin had learned in the past, they were not little spiders. 

And this time of year, very, very hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a chapter or two left! the good thing about doing all your writing when it's too crappy to be outside is you get it all done...


	4. Peculiar stonecrop and all

His lungs burned, there was still enough of a chill in the air to make breathing painful. He pushed it aside, wrapping his scarf around his mouth and nose to at least try and warm up the air before he breathed it in. Moomins in general were not built for speed, and even half-dead snufkin would catch up with him before too long, he hoped. 

He was in no shape to do this, and running up a mountain was likely to kill him, but he’d rather not think about it. He’d rather not think of several things about what was going on. Like why he was running after moomin. Like what might happen, and if the worst happened-

 

Snufkin, while being older and more mature than moomin, had a little awareness of his own feelings. Alas. but back to the story. 

 

Moomin made good time. It was nice up here and the summer in the summer, and there were herbs that moomin-mama liked to use grew here, so he he knew the main trails well enough. Not with snufkin, but once he was better they should! 

Granted, it was much more creepy now, with the snow, and no pretty flowers blooming so nicely on the rocks. …. Possibly the groke hiding around each bould- too late to worry about that now! Time to start looking. 

It was a fleshy, spiky looking plant in shades of blue. The picture in the book showed it living in the cracks of rocks so that’s where he started.

Snufkin finally had to stop, leaning against a tree to try and get his breath back. It was like a iron band around his chest, keeping the air from getting in. It was enough to make him dizzy, with black dots around the edges of his vision. There was a white wiggle up the trail, round and fluffy, moomin! He slumped in relief, pushing away from the tree. Time to get him, get home, accept the fact he’d prolly have to stay in bed and learn to enjoy papa’s horrible adventure stories for the next 6 months.

He didn’t see the spider. 

The yelp startled moomin, mostly because it was the last thing he was expecting to hear. Especially since it sounded like snufkin, who never yelped in such an undignified way, and was supposed to be back home in bed. But there was his green hat with the red feather and-

Wow that was a big spider. It was as large as the snow-horse too-ticky built for the winter lady last year, hairy and the same shade of gray as the bare rock face. And under it was snufkin! 

Out of instinct more than anything he grabbed a rock near at hand and flung it at the giant spider. With any luck it’d distract it and snufkin could- the spider looked up at moomin, but still had snufkin pinned with one foot.

“Come on you ugly old thing!” he flung another rock and another, bouncing off it’s head. “Don’t you want a juicy moomin for lunch?!” 

It took a step towards him and he realized he may have not thought this plan through all the way. Oh heck, in for a penny, in for a pound. He took a few steps back and threw another rock. Get up and run snufkin! Get! Up!

He took in a sharp breath, preparing the charge the monstrous thing. There was one thing you could say about moomins, they were not cowards.

Something shiny in snufkin’s hand caught the light, jabbing upwards into the spider’s belly. It screeched, flailing, and moomin took this to rush it. He knocked it off its feet, giving him enough time to grab snufkin’s hand and pull him down the trail behind him. 

Down aways, near the trailhead they collapsed into a pile. 

“What were you doing up there?” snufkin wheezed. “Don’t you know-”

“What are you doing here?” moomin countered before pulling him into a hug. The fight went out of them, just the relief they survived. “I need to go back up, there’s an herb that might help you get better.”

“The spiders-”

“I’m not afraid of spiders!” he declare, although he was very, very afraid of them. Just in all the excitement of /doing/ something he had forgotten all about the spiders. There were other things he was more afraid of than spiders, however. 

(And a small, small bit of him was pleased, that snufkin worried as much about him as he did for him.) 

Snufkin looked at him, still puffing for air before bowing his head. “Okay, but I’m coming with you.”

“Are you sure?” he was pale again, even as he was trying to give a carefree smile.

“Yeah-” he was interrupted by a coughing fit. 

“Maybe in the morning. We’ll try again, it's getting late.” and not just because, well, thin tent walls and spiders… 

 

Little My came with them the next day, declaring that they were both idiots and needed her supervision. If nothing else, moomin reasoned, three sets of eyes could find peculiar stonecrop in the snow better than one. And maybe a trip out would improve snufkin’s mood. 

He was still quiet and withdrawn as they walked. Normally he’d be singing, playing on his harmonica. Telling them about this or that or that time he got locked up in hemulen jail for taking all the signs in a town down- 

He grabbed snufkin’s hand gave it a quick squeeze. He got a tight smile in return and he looked a little more at ease. 

Little My made a gagging noise. 

“If you two are done, which way should we go?”

“Ummm..” moomin turned in a circle, glancing up one trail and then the other. “This one. This one to the right. Not the left because that’s where the giant, possibly still angry spider is. Yep.”

She raised one eyebrow, looking at one, then the other. “Good thing I came then. Now hurry up, my feet are cold.”

It wasn’t a hard climb, and snufkin really did start looking like he felt better being out of the house. Why hadn’t moomin thought of this earlier? He’d just been down and depressed after being cooped up. 

“Okay!” he said, once they reached the edge of the treeline. “It should be up here somewhere. Its blue and has spiky bits.”

“Are you sure? I see a whole lot of nothing up here.” she clambered up a rock and took a good look around. 

“Its low to the ground it’ll be under the snow.” snufkin was already brushing off the spaces between rocks. “You’re the perfect height to find it.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. Even if you have lost all your sense.” she muttered, but started looking around. 

They had to have a break, with a small fire, tea and sandwiches that moominmamma thoughtfully had packed for them. More looking and Moomin was starting to despair. All this and possibly getting eaten by giant, fanged spiders- (in his head they had become big as houses) and not one bit of peculiar stonecrop?

“We’ll have to head back soon if we want to be back before dark.” snufkin was cleaning up the remains of their little fire, looking a bit grey in the late afternoon light. It only sharpened his determination.

“Just a little longer. I’m going to check by the big boulder.” he scrambled over the snow and loose rocks and- there! Spiky blue fronds of peculiar stonecrop!   
He swung off his backpack and started loading the branches inside. A bit for the hemulen, plenty for mama to use and maybe some for her garden. Snufkin would be better, and then everything would be like it was before!

And then something grey and hairy jumped on him-

He shrieked and flailed, which probably was what saved him. This spider was much smaller than the one from yesterday, but still moomin-sized at least. He lost his footing on the skree and fell, kicking and flailing and keeping it from getting a chance to bite him with it’s entirely too-enormous fangs.

“HA!” Little My lept onto the spider’s back, Papa’s carving fork in one hand, rope in the other. “Who’s afraid of a little spider?! Not me!” 

“Little My!!” she had the rope around the spider’s head, using them like reins while she poked it with the carving fork. Snufkin dragged moomin away from them, bag full of herbs in hand.

“Should we go back for her?” he asked, once they had ran a ways down the path, out of sight.

“No, she should be fine…. I think.” they looked at each other. “It’s Little My. she’s always fine. Let’s get you out of this cold, you look like you fell down the mountain.”

 

They made it home just after dark, the house lit up like a lighthouse in the mist. Momma was waiting for them, of course, with cake and tea. Little my returned a while later, dragging the corpse of the moomin-sized spider and complaining that she saved their behinds yet had to drag it home all by herself.   
Papa quietly put it out on the back porch, careful to not touch it. Moominmama took the peculiar stonecrop and crushed it before putting it in some warm water and papa’s purely medicinal home-distilled liquor to steep. (made every year from blue pears and carefully hidden from the hemulen police, just in case.) then off to the baths with them to warm up. 

She gave snufkin the first dose, and a little for moomin, just incase running about gave him a cold and tucked them all into bed. Now it was just a matter of time. 

 

He did look better by morning. Perhaps it was the medicine, maybe it was getting outside again. His color looked better, and his skin was cool and dry when moomin felt his face. Another dose of medicine, and he even felt up to sitting on the porch with his harmonica. Things were going to be back to normal.   
It was a little depressing for moomin, as much as he was happy to have his friend be healthy and okay. Because normal didn’t mean the same, and it wouldn’t be the same between him and snufkin would it?

“I guess…” moomin said, “you’ll be heading out soon.” his friend looked over at him, putting the harmonica on his lap. 

“Hmm… no, I might as well stay since I’m already here.”

“But in the fall?” everything was tight with anticipation of being told-

“Well… I don’t quite know. We’ll have to see how I feel when that time comes. I rather like the feeling of being free to choose if I come or go.”

“Oh… oh!” he perked up in delight. 

“What about that house you wanted to build moomin? Are you going to do that?”

“Well maybe. So you have somewhere to come to if you are sick again. But you don’t /have/ to stay there.”

“I have never helped build a house before… I guess it would be an adventure of sorts.”

But house-building will be for another story. Moomin and snufkin and all the others would be sure to have an interesting summer, as all summers in Moomin valley were interesting, in one way or another. So ends the story of the winter Snufkin came to stay for the winter in Moomin valley. Whether or not he learned a lesson was up in the air. alas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all your love and kindness while I wrote this in an amazingly short period of time. if I get some ideas I'll write more.   
> my tumblr is https://animalswithfancyhats.tumblr.com/ if you want to see alot of plants, and occasional art and fiction.   
> please let me know what you think and if there's anything you want me to write!

**Author's Note:**

> first moomin fic! I hope you all like it. I know I have a type when I write... if you have any comments (on anything other than grammar or capitalization, for heaven's sake) I'm happy to get them! maybe more coming if I can do it! I tried to write it like the original novels, but you know how hard that is to mimic someone else's (translated) writing.


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